GoodNovelChloe lingered at the entrance for a moment, hesitating. Just as she was about to step inside, a waiter cby,
pushing a cart loaded with a fruit platter. Chloe noticed spaper and a pen on the cart, so she quickly tore off
a sheet and scribbled a note. The waiter
looked a bit confused but assumed Chloe was a guest from room number 8.
"Are you a guest here, miss?" he asked.
Chloe, seizing the opportunity to get in, nodded quickly. "Yes, | am. Lettake this fruit cart. I'll bring it in
myself."
Though he seemed a tad skeptical, the waiter didn't think too much of it and watched Chloe push the cart
through the door before turning away.
As soon as the door swung open, the room buzzed with life. It was a spacious private room packed with people.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtEvery corner was alive with activity-splaying mahjong, others belting out songs, and a few tossing dice and
playing cards over by the sofas.
Chloe took it all in with a swift glance, recognizing several of the young elites from Eldridge City. Among them
was a familiar face, Devon. Wasn't he Connor's childhood buddy? Chloe maneuvered the cart further inside,
scanning for Connor, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, her eyes landed on her intended target.
Her gaze fixed on a group lounging on the sofa in the rest area. Most of them had companions draped over
them, but one man sat alone, right in the center of the large sofa. His presence radiated an air of undeniable
authority. He sat with perfect posture, his brows slightly furrowed, and wore an expression that suggested he
wasn't particularly pleased with the world.
The most striking feature was the noticeable scar on his forehead. It was him-the guy those two in the hallway
were scheming against. Kash.
For reasons she couldn't quite
explain, Chloe's heart did a little flip when she saw his face. There was
strange sense of familiarity, like meeting someone you're sure you've seen before, even if it's the first time.
Maybe it was his cold, steely demeanor that set him apart. Others seemed to keep their distance.
A girl curled up in Devon's arms pouted, "Devon, why doesn't he ever smile?"
Devon, wearing a playful grin, replied, "Kash isn't like us. Go on, try to make him laugh. If you succeed, this Patek
Philippe is yours."
The woman's eyes practically
sparkled as she eyed the expensive
watch on Devon's wrist. Eagerly, she stood up her long, slender legs striding across the room towards Kash. But
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmbefore she could settle down beside him, Kash, without even looking up from his phone, cast a chilly glance her
way and said,
"Leave."
His voice was quiet, devoid of emotion, yet it carried a weight that was hard to ignore. The woman, taken aback,
quickly retreated, returning to Devon's side with a pout. "He's so mean," she complained. Devon chuckled,
gently pinching her chin. "You've got guts for trying. Kash isn't like Isaac. You and your sweet talk don't stand a
chance with him."
Nearby, a man in a sharp suit poured
ie’
e
a glass of wine and extended it towards Kash. "Kash, we've all got immense respect for your years in the
military, protecting the country. We go way back with Isaac, practically grew up together You're his big brother,
so you're ours too. We're here to give you a proper welcome, so how about a drink?"
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